In the quiet, deathly stillness of the battlefield, the world blurred into chaos around Seraphine and Vuron: smeared streaks of color twisted by velocity alone.
But for beings like them, sight was a trivial sense, secondary at best.
Mental power was their true vision.
Yet even that couldn't shield them from the raw toll of a battle waged at the edge of death.
They were locked in a duel where hesitation meant annihilation.
And in that life-or-death struggle, they maintained a blistering speed: twenty to thirty Mach, unrelenting.
At such inhuman velocity, the savage inertial forces generated by constant directional shifts tore through their bodies, moment by moment.
Bones cracked.
Organs buckled.
Muscle fibers screamed in agony.
It was as if their entire beings were on the verge of collapsing into blood-soaked mist at any second.
Of course, Seraphine’s clone, formed entirely from Ether, remained utterly unbothered.
She simply circulated her energy, and every wound vanished on its own, effortlessly restored.
But Vuron, his flesh and blood real, his limits mortal, was reaching the edge.
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!
The ground beneath them cratered violently as both combatants slammed to a halt.
Seraphine stood still, poised and graceful.
Her expression serene: breezy, almost carefree.
Like she'd just returned from an afternoon stroll in the park.
Vuron, by contrast, was a walking ruin.
Wounds split across his body, flesh peeled back to reveal shattered bone.
Blood poured freely, soaking the earth beneath him.
He hunched forward, gasping raggedly for breath.
“Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT! This human, how the hell is she this strong?! Why is she this strong?!”
Vuron's thoughts screamed in desperation.
“She actually shattered my life magnetic field?! My regeneration can’t even keep up with the destruction her attacks bring! At this rate, I’m going to die!!”
He trembled violently, blood dripping from every inch of his mangled frame.
The faint aura that once shimmered around him, his life magnetic field, was gone.
Utterly crushed by Seraphine’s relentless assault.
Even his powerful regenerative abilities, something that should have kicked in like second nature, had been crippled.
Twisted and disrupted by the insidious backlash of Seraphine’s Dragonwave Crash.
It should be understood:
Vuron’s race, the Aurora Clan, is born with an innate power: the life magnetic field.
A force comparable to a martial artist’s Ether field, yet vastly superior in resilience and breadth.
Tank shells, artillery fire, even missile barrages:
None of them could pierce it.
Not even advanced waveform weapons: infrasound, ultrasound, electromagnetic, microwave: could bypass it.
It was, in essence, an absolute defense.
Which was why, even back when Ether had yet to awaken across the world, the Emberlight Empire had struggled immensely just to obtain a few genetic samples.
And that was from Vuron in deep sleep, not even close to his full strength.
Only after deploying cutting-edge tactics and experimental procedures did they manage to pierce his skin and harvest limited material.
But now:
Against Seraphine’s clone, who carried a fraction of her main body’s might and struck with tens of thousands of tons of force, enhanced by martial supreme techniques like Drifting Cloud Hands and Dragonwave Crash...
Even Vuron’s legendary field could only break: shattered, mournful, defeated.
And then:
“What’s wrong? Already falling apart?”
Seraphine asked softly, her voice like wind through leaves.
“I haven’t even used my Aether Domain yet, can’t handle me already?”
Vuron fixed his gaze on Seraphine, silent but intense.
He didn’t quite understand what she meant by Aether Domain, not exactly.
But even with his formidable intellect, he could sense it: this wasn’t just some trick. It was something deeper, something far more dangerous.
His eyes darkened, sharp and frigid, boring into Seraphine’s calm expression as fury churned within him.
Damn it…
These hybrid divine abilities, my so-called superpowers, they’re completely worthless now! No choice... I’ll have to go all in!
Gritting his teeth, Vuron forced himself through the relentless agony of his near-collapsing body. Suddenly, he jerked his head up and roared:
“Aurora Art — Thundersteel Tyrant Body!!!”
BOOM!!!
In a thunderous blast, Vuron’s body shot into the sky, soaring over a thousand meters in a heartbeat. A wave of thunder and fire shockwaves exploded outward from him, violently hurling Seraphine back several kilometers.
High above, his form crackled with wild, semi-solid arcs of blue-white lightning and molten fire, spewing from every inch of his body like a living storm.
In a flash:
Vuron had transformed.
His entire frame became a radiant, searing humanoid inferno, the brightness enough to scorch the eyes.
The very air around him twisted and broke under the heat, violently ionized, birthing great curtains of electricity that snapped and surged through the sky.
Far below, Seraphine made no move to attack. Instead, she simply raised her gaze, watching with an intrigued glint in her eye.
“You actually managed to transmute your flesh into a high-energy plasma state? Fascinating... How exactly did you achieve that?”
She tilted her head, smiling ever so slightly.
“It’s almost... miraculous. Now I’m even more curious, just how many secrets are locked away in your genetic code?”
A thousand meters in the air, wrapped in high-voltage arcs, Vuron looked down on her like a god of judgment.
His voice rang out, cold and cruel:
“Human, I’ll give you credit: you’re strong. Stronger than most.”
“But your pathetic lineage ensures you’ll never touch the summit.”
“Yes, your speed, your strength, your reflexes… I’ll admit, they slightly surpass mine.”
“But once I activate the Tyrant Body, both my offensive and defensive capabilities multiply several times over.”
“On top of that, any damage you deal will be instantly regenerated.”
He sneered, the sound warped by the static that rippled from his burning form.
“You don’t stand a chance.”
“Human… I will eat you alive.”
“Is that so?”
Seraphine smiled, almost kindly, and shook her head.
“I don’t think so.”
She raised her hand.
In her palm, a sphere of brilliant, pure white lightning bloomed: silent, trembling with restrained power.
And in that single tremor, the surrounding Ether howled, converging upon it like tidal waves.
This was no ordinary lightning technique.
In truth, after mastering Palm-Heart Lightning, Seraphine had not stopped.
Instead, she spent day after day refining, evolving, perfecting it.
And eventually, she succeeded.
She forged a new technique, one that surpassed Palm-Heart Lightning in both scale and devastation:
【Skyveil Lightning】
Based on the refined framework of Palm-Heart Lightning, this technique draws in massive volumes of ambient Ether, layer upon layer, amplifying its destructive potential exponentially.
Even a single bolt of Skyveil Lightning surpasses natural lightning by dozens, no, hundreds, of times in sheer power.
It is the evolved form of Palm-Heart Lightning.
When unleashed, it can pierce and vaporize a cluster of heavily armored tanks with ease.
The surrounding radius, up to a hundred meters, is instantly reduced to scorched wasteland.
And that’s just one bolt.
But the weapon Seraphine now held in her hand wasn’t a bolt.
It was a sphere.
A compact orb of pure white lightning flashing violently in her palm, its name:
【Stormlight Devastator】
Crafted through a synthesis of Skyveil Lightning and modeled after the infamous Starspan method, it layered 50,000 individual Skyveil bolts into one hyper-condensed construct.
Drawing in vast Ether from the atmosphere, Seraphine assembled it with near-divine precision.
The result?
An energy core containing tens of quintillions of joules.
Equivalent to the total yield of a strategic nuclear warhead, measured in tens of millions of tons of TNT.
In theory, a single Stormlight Devastator rivals the energy discharge of the Tsar Bomba, the most powerful nuclear device ever detonated in human history.
And yet…
Thousands of meters above, Vuron, his body wreathed in lightning and fire, knew nothing of the weapon’s composition.
He simply laughed.
Loud. Harsh. Derisive.
"Electricity? You’re seriously trying to hit me with electricity?"
"Are you insane? My entire body is lightning!"
Still laughing, he raised a finger, sparking with electric flame, and pointed at Seraphine like a god mocking a mortal.
“Human, I won’t even move.”
“I want to watch your so-called ‘ultimate move’. I want to see the pathetic expression on your face when it fails.”
“Come on, human! Show me your desperation!”
Seraphine exhaled softly, her eyes faintly melancholic.
“…Then I only hope… you survive.”
BZZZZZZZT!!!
A searing white radiance exploded from her palm.
50,000 overlaid Skyveil Lightning bolts fused into a single over-spec technique:
【Stormlight Devastator】
In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a blazing, barrel-wide beam of pure white plasma, ripping through the air like a falling star, aimed straight at the floating Vuron.
The moment it fired:
The entire sky above the decrepit industrial zone dimmed.
Darkness spread, not because the sun had set, but because the beam’s brilliance drowned out the world.
It was so bright, the sky itself turned pitch black in contrast.
Far away, even the special agents who had retreated miles from the battlefield looked back, only to cry out in agony.
The light pierced their eyes. Blood trickled from their tear ducts. Blinded, they collapsed to their knees.
“Wh-What the hell is that? Is this a—?!”
“That’s a nuclear bomb!!!”
Selene, having fled to safety, clutched her streaming eyes and dropped to the ground in shock.
Her voice cracked with terror.
“This is a damn nuclear bomb!”
“…Holy mother of god…”
Auron lay crumpled on the scorched ground, his expression twisted in sheer despair.
“Your Highness... Please, withdraw your divine ability! We mortals, we can’t take this!!”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Even farther out, the special agents had been reduced to frozen statues, paralyzed by terror, sprawled helplessly across the cracked terrain.
BZZZZZZ~~
The very air itself, upon coming into contact with the incoming beam of light, warped and twisted violently, shrieking as it boiled under the overwhelming, chaotic force.
Then came the expansion, sudden and cataclysmic, as the blast surged outward in all directions.
Shockwave after shockwave rolled across the battlefield like the wrath of the heavens, mercilessly toppling entire factory complexes in its wake.
Tons of brick, concrete, and steel were torn from the earth, hurled skyward in a frenzy of destruction. The storm blended everything into a maelstrom of debris and smoke, twisting earth and sky into one indistinguishable blur of chaos.
And Vuron—
He stood paralyzed, gripped by a premonition of death so absolute it clung to every inch of his consciousness.
Just like how a person’s life flashes before their eyes in their final moments, time seemed to slow.
He stared, wide-eyed, as the beam of light streaked toward him, agonizingly slowly, and yet, he could do nothing.
It’s over.
I’m going to die!!!
The thought barely finished echoing in his mind before the beam hit.
It struck him dead-center.
BOOM!!!!!!!!
The moment of impact split the sky apart.
A cataclysmic detonation erupted high above, erupting with such violent radiance that everything, sky, land, air, was swallowed by blinding white light.
Surging shockwaves and pressure tides howled outward, crashing across the landscape with unstoppable force.
The very crust of the planet groaned beneath the assault.
Soundwaves of the impact spread for hundreds of kilometers, shaking cities and hearts alike.
There was nothing left of Vuron.
Not even ash.
The skies behind him, once murky with decades of industrial soot, had been cleansed, completely torn apart by the blast.
And in that instant:
The sky for ten thousand miles turned a clear, cloudless blue.
Beneath where Vuron had once hovered, just over a thousand meters up, a massive crater had formed.
Hundreds of meters in diameter.
Over a hundred meters deep.
Its floor glowed, glassy and molten, melted into a crystalline basin.
The lingering energy from the Stormlight Devastator had compressed and ignited the atmosphere so violently that it forged this pit through pure, brutal physics.
Even the dozen or so high-energy streamers that had splintered off from the beam as it struck Vuron:
They had ripped through the horizon like divine spears, detonating one after another, obliterating everything in their path.
Within seconds, the entire old industrial district was reduced to a smoldering, shattered wasteland.
The entire city of Ashara, the Imperial Palace, the entire province, home to over a hundred million, felt it.
They heard it.
That thunderous, soul-rending roar.
They felt it.
The quake. The trembling earth. The impossible pressure.
People screamed. Froze. Collapsed.
Auron, Selene, and the surviving agents were tossed like ragdolls, bloodied, dazed, broken in both body and mind.
Elsewhere, across the Imperial hierarchy, the elites, the generals, ministers, technocrats, and magnates, sat in stunned silence.
No one dared speak.
They couldn’t fathom it. Couldn’t comprehend it.
This wasn’t a battle tactic.
It was annihilation.
An attack that had fully reached the scale of a strategic nuclear weapon, and beyond.
And yet, all of it, this devastation, had been caused by just two "humans": Seraphine and Vuron.
They were Earthborn, technically speaking. So how could they be so radically different from the rest of humanity?
Humans...?
Or perhaps, just lifeforms.
Could any sentient species really become this powerful?
But then again, who else could it have been?
And what was even more terrifying: that was just a clone.
What level of strength, then, did Seraphine’s true body possess?
Or more precisely, what was the limit of her real combat power?
...
Ashara, Imperial Palace.
Everyone within the Imperial Sanctum found themselves unable to look away from the lone figure standing with her hands calmly clasped: Seraphine.
A strange silence took hold of the court. No one dared to speak. The atmosphere was thick with awe and fear.
Amid the silence, the Emperor of Emberlight looked positively radiant with pride, as though the gods themselves had descended into his lineage.
To him, the future of the Emberlight Empire had never looked brighter.
By contrast, Hestan and Cedric stood pale and crushed, their faces drained of all color. Their eyes were blank, empty, filled with silent despair.
The throne they once dreamed of...
Had become an illusion, shattered before their eyes.
...
Ashara’s outer industrial zone, ruins.
SWOOSH—
Seraphine took off, her figure streaking into the sky as her mental power spread outward in waves, combing the landscape with precision.
Tch. He’s not actually dead, is he?
Maybe I overdid it a little.
She clicked her tongue inwardly, quietly rebuking herself.
The Aurora Clan’s genes were too valuable. She couldn’t afford to lose them.
They were the key.
The key to her future, to whether she could mass-produce elite soldiers tailored to her command.
Seraphine had every intention of replicating the methods used by the 【Sacred Zone Research Society】.
She would build her own faction of biotechnologically-enhanced super beings.
Otherwise, she'd be stuck having to intervene personally every time.
That would be... inefficient.
Lifting her gaze, Seraphine looked toward the ashen, dust-choked sky.
She could feel it.
Multiple ‘eyes’, invisible, artificial, peering down at her from orbit.
“Satellites, huh?” she muttered, smiling faintly. “Haha... let them watch. It doesn't matter anymore.”
With her current combat power?
She had long since stopped caring what the governments and militaries of Earth thought.
Of course, Seraphine’s disregard only extended to those below a certain threshold.
It wasn’t as though she was fearless, just... selective.
Compared to what emerged in the late chapters of the original work, the spin-offs, or the new film adaptations: things like otherworldly revenants, interplanetary warlords, eldritch gods from deep space, or entities from higher-dimensional planes...
These Earth-born nations?
They were little more than weeds.
Not even ants.
Seraphine’s expression sharpened.
Somewhere beneath the rubble, not far from her location, she sensed a sliver of mental power.
It was faint, but active.
It was transmitting something, complicated, encoded, toward some far-off, unknown destination.
"Found you."
A colossal burst of telekinetic force surged outward, fast, precise, locking onto a crater several kilometers away.
CRACK, CRACK, CRACK…
The earth rumbled. Stone and soil trembled.
And then, torn violently from beneath the surface, a grotesquely damaged skull, half-shattered and scorched, was wrenched into the air, soaring toward Seraphine under her mental grip.
It floated before her, glowing faintly, translucent, fractured.
Even in its ruined state, Seraphine could still sense it, a flickering, chaotic sliver of consciousness. Weak, scattered, but still alive.
She smiled faintly.
“You’re persistent. Even in this state, you cling to life.”
The fractured awareness inside the skull stirred, seething.
The air quivered as it howled in psychic fury:
“Damn human! Don’t get cocky! When our King awakens and returns, he’ll wipe your pathetic species from existence!”
“This planet belongs to the Aurora Clan, always has, always will!”
Seraphine raised an eyebrow, her voice calm, even curious.
“Oh? You still have a King? Is he strong?”
The King of Aurora?
This... wasn't in any version of 《Superpower Struggle》.
Figures. The plotline was never all that accurate to begin with.
A warped, rasping laugh echoed from within the skull.
“Hmph, hmph… You’ve barely seen anything.”
“Dozens of our kind remain in stasis, buried deep across this world.”
“And I?” The voice sneered, bitter and proud.
“I am the weakest of them.”
“Each of my kin is several times, no, dozens of times, stronger than me.”
“And our King... our King is more than a hundred times stronger!”
Now, the tone shifted. Dark. Menacing. Triumphant.
“Human, I’ve already transmitted everything about you to them.”
“Your fragile civilization, your pathetic country, they won’t survive what comes next!”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
But Seraphine just smiled, genuinely amused.
“Then I suppose I owe you a thank-you.”
The laughter cut short.
“…What?”
“Thank me? What do you mean?”
Seraphine’s gaze sharpened, and her voice grew almost playful.
“Did you really think the one fighting you just now...”
“Was my real body?”
“…What…?”
The skull trembled.
“You... a... clone?!”
“Clone.” Seraphine nodded lightly.
“Just a disposable projection of my will.”
“The real me?”
Her tone didn’t change, but the space around her seemed to thrum with pressure.
“Probably ten thousand times stronger than this version you fought.”
The skull began to shake uncontrollably.
“Y-You lie! You’re bluffing! That’s impossible! ABSOLUTELY impossible!!”
In that instant:
Seraphine’s eyes flared with celestial light.
A surge of pure Mental Power wrapped around the skull like chains of invisible fire.
And before Vuron’s fractured mind could react, he was violently pulled through space, dragged across dozens of kilometers by Seraphine’s spiritual tether.
BOOM!
Suddenly, he was there.
In the Imperial Sanctum.
Floating in a great chamber suffused with ethereal energy.
There, waiting in the center, sat her true form.
Vuron’s awareness, now in a purely conscious state, was, in many ways, even sharper than when he possessed a physical body.
He could clearly feel it.
That presence.
That unfathomable force radiating from the being before him.
It was nothing like the human he’d fought earlier.
This one... was way stronger.
Vuron froze.
Utterly paralyzed.
Shock. Horror. Fear. Despair.
A maelstrom of emotion flooded his fractured soul.
This kind of existence...
It wasn’t just powerful, it was beyond any comparison.
Even if his clan’s King awoke and marched with every surviving Aurora warrior at his side...
They wouldn’t stand a chance.
They wouldn’t even be able to challenge her with one hand.
“This… this, how can this be!?”
“In such a low-Ether environment, how can something like you even exist!?”
“This defies all logic!!”
Vuron screamed.
Raging. Crumbling.
“I don’t believe it! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! This is impossible, AAAAAAAAAH!!!”
Suddenly, it hit him, he remembered the message he’d just transmitted to the clan.
A tremor of pure terror coursed through his essence.
He desperately tried to reach back, to send another warning:
Don’t come here!
Don’t come here!
DON’T COME HERE!
Get off this planet, go anywhere, just stay away!
But it was too late.
His consciousness was now wrapped, crushed, devoured by an overwhelming spiritual force.
Forget communication, he couldn’t even detach from the fractured skull and flee.
Then came her voice.
Calm. Almost amused.
“Earth is such a big place.”
“I was honestly worried I wouldn’t find your little nest of ancient rats.”
“Dozens of primitives, each several times stronger than you.”
“A chieftain, a so-called King, who’s supposedly a hundred times more powerful.”
“How wonderful.”
Seraphine’s smile was bright.
And utterly merciless.
Her spiritual power surged again, and Vuron’s flailing, despair-ridden consciousness began to crack.
She pressed down, hard.
Crushing him like dust into pure mental energy, fragmented memories and all, and devoured it in a single breath.
In that instant, a stream of ancient scenes, echoes of Earth from millions of years ago, rushed into Seraphine’s mind.
But only for a moment.
Her eyes opened.
Cold. Sharp.
“Fake memories.”
“Useless.”
Her voice was flat now.
“So it was the so-called King of Aurora who tampered with them?”
She suddenly paused, brow tightening as she turned her gaze skyward.
“Strange.”
“The wireless signals, optical channels, remote-sensing telemetry... All tampered with?”
“Even the spiritual flow here feels like it’s been forcibly altered. A Superpower user?”
She tilted her head slightly.
“Interesting. The Superpowers born from this Ether Tide are becoming more and more diverse.”
But after a brief moment of thought, she shrugged slightly.
It wasn’t worth her attention.
Without another word, she vanished, soaring into the distance like a streak of radiant light.
...
Far away.
In the middle of the shattered wasteland:
THUD!
Two figures, caked in dust and rubble, crawled out from the debris.
Selene and Auron, their faces pale and stunned.
They looked around at the flattened terrain, ashen, smoking, and silent.
For a long moment, neither said a word.
Then Selene suddenly raised her small head, her eyes sparkling.
She clenched her fist.
“Decision!” she declared with fiery conviction. “I, your beloved maiden, have made up my mind! I’m switching units!”
“I’m going to apply to the Heir Affairs Bureau!”
“HUH?!!”
Auron gawked at his sister like she’d gone completely insane.
“What in the world are you talking about, you lunatic?! Why would you go to a place like that?! It’s nothing but chaos!”
Selene just grinned mischievously.
“A boring life is a slow death for talent like mine!”
“Even if I’m just a desk jockey, I’ve still got dreams!”
“I want to meet the strongest boss!”
And then, she suddenly hugged her flushed cheeks, stomped her foot, and shouted with all her heart:
“THE HEIR IS SO STRONGGGG~!!!!”
“...”
Auron, defeated on all fronts, stared blankly at his delusional little sister.
He had no words.
Just silence.
...
Inside the Imperial Sanctum, the short stick of incense had finally burned out.
Seraphine opened her eyes.
Without a word, she turned and strode out of the grand palace hall.
Outside, in the palace courtyard, the highest officials of the Emberlight Empire stood waiting.
As Seraphine emerged, calm and radiant, all eyes turned to her with an almost religious reverence.
The Emperor of Emberlight quickly stepped forward, his expression carefully composed yet tinged with awe.
“Sera… about that Vuron…”
“He’s dead.”
Seraphine’s voice was serene, as if she were mentioning the weather.
“Ah… he…” The Emperor blinked. “Just now? That fast?”
Silence rippled through the court.
Everyone was stunned.
Seraphine glanced at them with faint surprise, her brows lifting slightly.
“A few minutes is fast?”
“I said it before, he was nothing but a minor character.”
She turned slightly, looking toward the now-extinguished incense.
“The incense is out. Does that mean the ceremony for the Heir’s investiture is officially complete?”
“Y-yes! Yes, of course!”
The Emperor nodded rapidly, smiling awkwardly.
“Yes, yes!”
The other ministers and nobles followed suit, a chorus of polite nods and forced smiles trailing behind.
But behind their practiced gestures was fear.
Real fear.
They had seen Vuron.
They had witnessed that thing, that terrifying relic of prehistory, something that should have taken a nuclear bombardment to even scratch, if that.
And yet, Seraphine had annihilated him with a Clone.
Not the real her.
A Clone.
What kind of power was that?
If her Clone held that much destructive potential, then what of her true self?
Three times stronger?
Five? Ten?
Dozens?
But Seraphine didn’t bother explaining.
She didn’t care to.
Even the mere glimpse of power she had displayed was already enough; to these mortals, it was a force they could neither match nor comprehend.
In the distance, Hestan and Cedric, once proud, were now collapsed.
Their eyes empty.
Their faces pale.
The arrogance they once carried had been stripped clean, replaced with the brittle silence of defeat.
They fell to the ground like damp grass crushed beneath a summer storm.
But no one looked at them.
All eyes remained locked on Seraphine.
And just like that, the ceremony concluded flawlessly.
Seraphine was now the official Heir to the Emberlight throne.
This news would soon be transmitted across the vast Human Sphere, to every Earth-aligned nation with diplomatic ties to Emberlight.
And with it, subtle whispers of Seraphine’s true strength, drawn from scattered data, coded messages, and leaked footage, began to ripple outward.
Across Earth, the winds began to shift.
And in the shadows, clouds gathered.
...
Beaconreach, somewhere in a desolate mountain range.
Deep underground, inside a vast hidden compound, a group of figures stood cloaked in shadows.
Their eyes were fixed on a large screen, which replayed footage captured during the battle between Seraphine and Vuron.
Even distorted by distance and signal interference, the sheer devastation in the video was unmistakable.
After several minutes, the screen showed Seraphine retrieving Vuron’s skull, then vanishing into the sky.
Silence lingered.
Then a low, detached male voice cut through the air.
“So… a strategic-class nuclear blast inside a human body?”
A soft laugh followed.
A woman’s voice, light and lilting, but with a razor hidden beneath the velvet.
“Oh, Boss… you’ve touched the edge of the unexplainable.”
“And I do think the video’s authenticity needs further investigation. For now, I remain skeptical.”
“Hm. I thought Superpower users had long since outgrown science.”
The man spoke again.
Cold. Exhausted. Analytical.
“After all, so many of their abilities defy any known framework.”
“HAHAHAHA...”
The woman chuckled again.
“That’s only true if you look at powers from a narrow engineering perspective.”
“But from a broader natural science approach, every phenomenon in the universe, no matter how strange, can be observed, recorded, and ultimately predicted.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Given a sufficient number of research samples…”
“Even Superpowers can be dismantled, cell by cell, gene by gene.”
“...You think the blast we saw, comparable to a hydrogen bomb, can be recreated?”
“Hard to say.”
Her tone grew thoughtful.
“The video lacks data resolution. I can’t determine the operational mechanics behind her technique.”
“Besides, this Emberlight princess… there’s no prior record of her wielding that level of ability.”
“She won’t be easy to approach.”
Silence again.
Then the man spoke, almost casually.
“Alright. Then let’s start with the Angel’s skull.”
“The blood samples from Project 【Ascension】 were far too little, barely enough for initial analysis.”
“We need more material.”
The woman replied smoothly:
“In that case… why not send Abram?”
“He’s discreet. Capable. And knows how to take what we need.”
A pause.
Then the cold voice answered:
“Yes. Abram will do.”
